Flying Through Danger
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Lupin and George's escape from the Death Eaters during the infamous removal of Harry from the Dursley's in HP:ATDH.


**I know it's been what... three and a half years since the seventh book came out. But this came to me and I had to write it.**

**This is what, I think, had happened while Remus and George were flying away from the Death Eaters and how poor, poor Georgie lost his ear. Snape, even though you turned out to be a good guy, you were a horrible shot. **

**So, please enjoy, leave a comment when you are done reading, and I own nothing.**

**Bye...**

There were so many Death Eaters, Remus couldn't keep up with all of them. He had lost track of Tonks, worry gripping his heart, but he kept his composure as he started to fight. He and George were throwing spells left and right, keeping firm grasps on the broom with their free hands to keep themselves from falling to their deaths.

Remus watched as a well cast stunning spell, by George, hit one of the Death Eaters in the face. As he fell off his broom, one of his friends broke ranks to go after him.

"Nice shot," Remus complimented absentmindely, hitting another Death Eater with the _Impedimenta _jinx.

"Oh, you know me. I am a man of many..." George's gloating was cut off as a scream of pain ripped from his throat. Lupin turned, spotting Snape-whose mask had fallen off sometime in the pursuit-lowering his wand with an unidentifiable look on his face. He eyes were locked on something, Remus following his gaze.

His own eyes widened at the sight, the mess of blood coating the side of George's face making Lupin's stomach churn. The younger man was pale, his eyes squeezed shut in pain, his body listing to the side.

Using his knees to keep from falling, blasting another Death Eater out of the sky, Remus grabbed hold of George's tee-shirt. He pointed his wand at Snape and screamed, "_Relashio."_ fiery sparks shot from his wand, hitting Snape in the chest and catching his robes on fire. He let go of his broom, trying to put himself out, almost falling off the thick wood underneath him.

Remus turned his attention to George, who was barely conscious at that point, and pulled him tighter against him. Worry gnawed at the werewolf's stomach, seeing George go through this as Harry. Lupin cared for Harry like he were his own, it was almost like being around James again. He never, ever wanted to see the boy go through something like the Weasley he was so desperately trying to keep on his broom.

He sensed the protective barriers coming closer, Kingsley's place coming into view, and turned to fire off another curse only to watch as the rest of the Death Eaters took off. Before he could fathom what that meant, he crossed the forcefield of protective spells and knew he was safe.

He landed roughly, the impact with the ground jarring his knees and almost making him fall. He felt George's limp form collide with his back, warm blood soaking into his shirt. He lowered the injuried man to the ground, unmounting the broom himself. He tossed it aside, kneeling next to the now unconscious George.

"Crap," he whispered at the sight. One of George's ears had been ripped cleanly off. No doubt Snape had used _Sectumspempra_, it was his speciality. _Bleeding Coward_, Lupin thought bitterly.

He checked his watch, realizing there was no time to help George-not that he could do much, the ear was gone. He pulled himself to his feet, grabbing George under the arm. The unconscious man's hair was already starting to turn red, his height had diminished some. Thanking whoever was listening for the small favor-Harry had grown a lot taller than him and would have been a bitch to pick up-he hefted the younger man to his feet. Remus almost collapsed when all of George's weight leaned into him, and managed to stay up by shear will alone.

As quickly as he could, he half dragged, half carried George toward the front stoop of Kingsley's place. The portkey was sitting on the railing, already glowing blue.

"Hold on, George," he whispered getting a tighter hold on him. He grabbed the small, old-fashioned mirror, too preoccupied to do the whole 'just one finger' crap, and instantly felt as if something had hooked onto his naval. The last thing he thought, before he was lifted from his feet, was, _I hope Tonks made it out okay._ Then he was gone...


End file.
